


Aces High

by Karasuno Volleygays (ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor)



Series: Valentine's Kisses 2019 [35]
Category: Haikyuu!!, ダイヤのA | Daiya no A | Ace of Diamond
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, meet cute, this is pointless and fluffy and i love them both so idc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 02:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor/pseuds/Karasuno%20Volleygays
Summary: Akaashi found his volunteer job boring with one exception. When he found said exception opening up to him, he knew he was beaten and he wasn't even mad about it.





	Aces High

Akaashi’s eyelids drooped as he slouched against the front desk at the aquarium. It was yet another dull Sunday at his dull volunteer job, and he couldn’t wait until for five o’clock to roll around so he could get home and finish his equally dull homework sometime before midnight.

The day dragged on a little bit less, however, when  _ he _ came in. 

Whether the guy was as awkward as he looked, Akaashi didn’t know, but something about this moody, sleepy-eyed kid in a baseball tee came alive as he watched various sea creatures dart through the water. The penguins in particular held his interest. Before long, Akaashi found that the highlight of his days at the aquarium was easily observing the joy that ignited in his regular guest from the simple pleasure of peacefully coexisting with this little slice of nature.

So when a Sunday afternoon began and ended and Moody-kun was nowhere to be found, Akaashi found himself wandering around the building, asking other employees if they had seen him. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” said Ibu-san the Fish Guy, the attendant who fed the arctic animals. “He’s usually over here for about an hour, just watching the babies play.”

Of course, Akaashi had already known that, but he didn’t say as much. Instead, he thanked Ibu for his time and headed over to the gift shop to make a similar inquiry to the girl behind the counter.

“Mamiko-san, have you seen that one guy?” At her blank stare, he added, “The one who comes in every Sunday and stares at the penguins.”

Recognition lit in her eyes. “Oh, Furuya-kun?” Her nose scrunched as she scoured her brain. “Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him today. He usually comes in to buy a can of tea and a bag of shrimp chips. Sometimes a book or a keychain, too.”

Akaashi nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. He didn’t come in today, and I thought it was kind of weird.”

Mamiko frowned. “I hope he’s okay. He’s actually really sweet.”

At her blush, Akaashi chuckled. “Is he now?”

“Keiji-kun is rude.” Even through her admonishment, though, she was smiling. “Besides, I don’t think I’m his type.”

“Ah.” The plethora of baseball shirts reminded Akaashi that Furuya’s passion probably rested there. He could relate. After all, the best athletes he had ever known (including his own volleyball captain) lived and breathed their sport of choice. “Well, uh, thanks, Mamiko-san. Let me know if he shows.”

Mamiko gave him a strange look but nodded nonetheless. Akaashi returned to his post at the front desk, mulling over Mamiko’s expression while he dusted the counter he had already wiped down three times that day.

And that day ended without Furuya’s presence, which Akaashi couldn't help but fixate on while he took the bus home. 

The next week, however, Furuya arrived at the aquarium barely an hour after it opened. Akaashi heard the door open and looked up, and he smiled over the top of his computer monitor at their favorite regular. “Nice to see you back, Furuya-kun. We were wondering where you were last week.”

“Yeah.” Furuya’s voice was quiet as usual, but Akaashi picked up a hint of hurt threading through it. 

Akaashi skirted the front desk, and his breath caught when he saw the stark white expanse of trainer tape swaddling his ankle. “Ouch. Looks like you were probably under house arrest last weekend.”

Furuya nodded. “I sprained my ankle in a game last Saturday. I’m not allowed to practice for another week.” He pouted and crossed his arms. “I can still play.”

Shaking his head, Akaashi rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure if you’re being banned from doing anything for two weeks, it’s because your team needs you for the long run, not just for the game or two you might squeak out before your ankle gives out on you.”

“Oh.” Furuya averted his gaze, a dusting of pink on his cheeks. “I didn’t think about that.”

Akaashi clapped him on the shoulder. “Nobody ever does.” Glancing toward the penguin pond, he said, “Hey, I’m bored. Do you mind if I hang out with you to watch the babies?”

“Sure.” Furuya led the way, and they sat at the bench in front of the penguin pond, where Ibu was tossing small fish to the flock of young penguins the facility had just acquired. 

Furuya watched them with wide, shining eyes, but Akaashi caught himself watching Furuya more than the penguins. He had been like that when he had first started coming there, but the novelty had worn off and his current attitude was to serve his sentence and escape, hoping he didn’t go home smelling like fish.

“Thank you, by the way,” Furuya said suddenly, and Akaashi’s attention snapped up from where they had fixated on Furuya softly drumming his fingertips on the bench between them. “I didn’t think anyone would care if I wasn’t here. I feel like I’m in the way when I stay so long, but I love it here.”

“No problem.” Akaashi swallowed hard and stared ahead, pretending to watch the pond. He knew he wasn’t the most friendly or sociable guy on the planet, but he didn’t like the idea that Furuya — the one person who made his Sunday sentences bearable — had in any way felt unwelcome. “Wait, yeah,” Akaashi amended. “Actually, there is a problem.”

Furuya gave him a blank look, and Akaashi bit back a laugh when the expression reminded him greatly of Karasuno’s tall, dark, and cranky setter. “I’m here to pad my college application, but you come here because you love it. If anyone should feel like they’re in the way, it’s me. Everyone I talk to likes having you around. Including me, and definitely Mamiko-san in the gift shop. I think she might have a thing for you.”

“What, why?” Furuya scowled, and Akaashi took a moment before he realized that he wasn’t angry, he was confused.

Now he couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t look so worried. It’s a good thing when nice girls want you around. It’s a lot easier to talk to people you might be interested in if they’re already in the game.”

“But I’m not interested.” Furuya stared at this hands, which were knotting in his lap. “I don’t, uh, like girls.”

Akaashi reminded himself to let Mamiko down easy later on, and maybe high five her for calling that one. “I figured. No big deal. I’m not really into girls, either. I like them as friends, but my first kiss was most definitely a guy.”

Furuya gawked at him, and Akaashi bumped their shoulders together. “So yeah, you’re a hundred percent welcome here, and I look forward to it when you are.”

“I will, then.” Furuya’s eyes drifted over to the penguins, where two of the smaller ones were leapfrogging over each other on the artificial beach. “This place reminds me of home.”

“Home?” 

“Home.” A smile teased at Furuya’s mouth, something Akaashi remembers being reserved for the sweetest of the creatures in the aquarium. “I’m from Hokkaido.”

Akaashi shrugged. “I get that. I’ve always lived in Tokyo, so I don’t know anything about wildlife except which ones taste good.”

Furuya guffawed, and tension Akaashi hadn’t noticed before eased from his shoulders. “I read about animals a lot. The pictures are nice, too.”

And Furuya proved his point soon after, when they meandered through the aquarium. Furuya rattled off fact after fact about obscure species, which Akaashi forgot as soon as he heard, but what did stick in his brain was how much Furuya was speaking. During his regular visits, he would go the entire day without saying a word other than a quiet ‘thank you’ to Mamiko after making a purchase.

It was attractive, and Akaashi didn’t know what to do with that information other than take in one enthusiastic spiel after another.

Here and there, Akaashi would slip away under the pretense of doing work, but he had long exhausted any sort of way to idle away the hours that didn’t involve organizing the haphazard mix of files on the front desk computer into navigable folders and menus. Everyone who saved things to the hard drive just put it on the desktop these days, leaving them for Akaashi to efficiently and correctly categorize.

It was after noon before Ibu pulled him aside. “I know you’re bored out of your mind and there’s nothing going on today. Just take the day off. Spend time with your new friend.”

Akaashi blushed, not wanting to intimate to his probably aggressively straight coworker that he was interested in more than friendship with Furuya. “Uh, sure. Thanks.”

Inside, however, his heart was pumping its fist in victory. 

When he caught back up to Furuya, Akaashi gave him a thumbs up. “I’ve been pardoned for the day, so if you want to hang out or go grab some lunch, I’m game.”

On cue, Furuya’s stomach rumbled loudly. “I didn’t eat breakfast because I slept in and didn’t want to wait to come here.” He bit his lip. “That sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

“Nah.” Akaashi sighed, scouring through scores of memories of his own teammates, who would practice until they dropped and then practice some more. He had a feeling Furuya was like that, too, with his Sundays at the aquarium his one ‘cheat day’ of rest and relaxation. “You’re probably really good at what you do. Take a break here and there, or you’ll burn yourself out.”

Furuya nodded solemnly. “That’s what Miyuki-senpai always says.”

Akaashi chuckled and tilted his head back. “You don’t listen to Miyuki-senpai much, do you?”

“I do.” Ducking his shoulders, Furuya added a quiet, “Sometimes.”

“Sounds about right.” Akaashi grabbed Furuya’s arm and dragged him toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s eat before we both die. I'm starving.”

Furuya let himself be corralled toward the revolving doors, and they descended upon a home-style restaurant with giant portions that were enough to slake even Akaashi’s voracious eating habits.

One platter definitely intended for two people and a modest tempura mix later, Akaashi and Furuya were full, respectively. Akaashi groaned and leaned back against the booth, fingers threaded over his belly and his eyes closed. “Oh, man, I hope my mom isn’t right when she says after twenty, I won’t be able to eat like that without getting fat. I love food so much.”

“I can barely finish three bowls of rice every meal.” Furuya mirrored Akaashi’s posture and yawned. “Food just makes me tired.”

Yawning in reply, Akaashi hummed in agreement. “Not a bad way to spend a Sunday.” 

When they were both up to moving around, the two of them wandered toward a nearby park where a flock of tiny children were playing tee ball. “Ha, I remember those days. My hair was too long, my helmet was too big for my head, and I had a habit of throwing the bat when I hit the ball.”

Furuya gasped. “You play baseball?”

“Oh, no.” Akaashi shook his head vehemently. “I was terrible at it. Lucky for me, the volleyball thing worked out. I’m pretty good at that, and I get to play with and against some of the best players in the country. I never would’ve been able to do that playing baseball.”

“I’m a pitcher.” 

Furuya’s ban on heavy activity for his ankle made a lot more sense. “You messed up your pivot foot, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Furuya’s gaze jerked down to his feet, where he glared at his injured ankle. “I hate it. All I want to do is contribute to my team. They all work so hard, and I want to be a part of it. They can’t be the best they can be until I am, too.”

Akaashi thought back to some of his past matches with Bokuto. Their situations weren’t all that different. “Sometimes, you have to realize that your best isn’t a constant. It’s what you’re capable of at any given moment giving the circumstances. Doing your best means knowing what that is and doing what you can do at the time.”

Furuya appeared to be mulling over Akaashi’s words, which were crafted by one and a half strange and wonderful years with an ace like Bokuto. For all he knew, Furuya was an ace and this Miyuki-san was a tired but patient soul who played his partner like a fiddle to bring the best out of him.

He stopped short at that thought. “Hey, wait. You said you were a pitcher. What school do you go to?”

“Seidou.” 

It was a school even Akaashi’s limited attention span for high school baseball recognized. “Do you get to play in games?”

“Most of the time. Sometimes, Eijun pitches and I play outfield.” The mention of this Eijun made a slight smile bloom on Furuya’s face. “He’s loud and weird and kind of dumb, but he works harder than anyone and I want to be like that.”

“I’d drink to that if I didn’t think I’d explode.” 

Furuya nodded, and their trek back to the aquarium resumed. The rest of the afternoon was spent finishing up Furuya’s educational tour, finishing up back at the penguin habitat where Ibu snuck them in to toss fish to the little ones. 

Akaashi threw maybe two fish, as he was riveted by the sight of Furuya reveling in the activity. His companion was almost shaking when he squatted down and let one of the wandering penguins nuzzle his outstretched hand.

Closing time was near, and Akaashi lingered until it came. They exited the building together, and Furuya didn’t object when Akaashi joined him on his journey back to Seidou. 

The school gates, emblazoned with a gleaming nameplate, loomed ahead, and Akaashi fought the urge to turn back. He knew how much homework was waiting for him when  _ he _ got home; it went without saying that a guy who went to a school that was hard to test into probably had his own fair share of assignments languishing at the bottom of his baseball bag. 

“I did my homework already,” Furuya said, and Akaashi only then realized he had said something along that line out loud without thinking about it. 

“Sorry,” Akaashi mumbled. “I don’t mean to be nosy.”

“It’s all right, Keiji-san,” Furuya answered. “I usually have to be reminded to do it. I just haven’t had anything better to do.”

The sound of his given name with Furuya’s soft Northern lilt did something to Akaashi’s stomach that was akin to nausea but definitely the good kind. Anticipation was the closest word he could assign to the feeling. 

And he wasn’t the only one.

Furuya stood toe to toe with Akaashi, and with their heights being virtually identical, there was nowhere to look other than right at each other. Not that Akaashi would have dared look anywhere else. If he did, the moment might have been lost and his chances to make anything of this blossoming kinship they shared would surely have diminished. 

Furuya’s head tilted to the side, and that thoughtful little scowl reappeared. Finally, he blurted, “I want to kiss you, but I don’t know if I’m allowed to do that.”

Akaashi froze, heartbeat a noisy drum inside his head. He turned the words over in his head time and time again, searching for any way he could misconstrue Furuya’s true meaning behind what he said. There wasn’t any. Furuya wanted to kiss him, and Akaashi was damn sure going to let him. “I won’t tell if you don’t,” Akaashi breathed before he listed forward and snared Furuya’s lips with his own. 

All at once, Furuya’s entire body came to life, pulling Akaashi closer while their clumsy mouths sought contact that didn’t involve noses in the way. It was messy and uncoordinated and good as hell, and Akaashi applauded the little devil riding on his shoulder that sounded suspiciously like Bokuto, urging him to do something bold and oh-so-satisfying.

Neither of them could draw a full breath by the time they pried their lips apart. However, they were still wrapped up in each other from the chest down, arms hooked around waists and foreheads resting against one another. Akaashi felt like he had run a mile while dragging a bus behind him through the mud, and he loved every aching gasp for air that rattled through his lungs.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” Furuya admitted. 

Akaashi had thought as much, but it didn’t matter. Being good at kissing didn’t make it fun; the person did. “It was the first kiss I ever had that I actually want to do it again.”

Furuya’s eyes widened, and their mouths met in the middle for one last memento before it was time to go their separate ways. 

Lips glistening from a mix of both their saliva, Furuya backed away wide-eyed and slack-jawed. He nearly ate shit three times when his feet wandered too close to the edge of the sidewalk, and it was cute as hell and Akaashi couldn’t wait to find out what else this fledgling companionship with Furuya Satoru had to offer.

 


End file.
